


The Smart One

by laEsmeralda



Category: Killjoys (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 09:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20151625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laEsmeralda/pseuds/laEsmeralda
Summary: John and D'avin separately work the problem of purging the Hullen. S04:E02





	The Smart One

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains spoilers for S04/E02-E03. I wrote it right after watching _Johnny Dangerously_ and then edited it after after watching _Bro-d Trip_. I considered calling it AU, but then instead I wrote a new ending to try to reconcile with the show's solution for Hullen Johnny. It's hard to call this transformative fiction when the show's writer handed us the bunny, apparently on purpose and with glee.

Perhaps it was the unfamiliar being in the green behind the glint in Johnny’s eyes. Maybe the provocation of what had, at first, seemed a raw physical challenge, which as a matter of instinct, D’avin steps toward, and not away from. Always. 

His own taunt had shocked him as he heard it, but the words weren’t as shocking as the surge that hit him somewhere else. In hindsight, the laughing gas, maybe.…

No. This double-crossing (temporarily) Hullen who’s now strong enough that he can’t be physically overpowered, he’s not all Johnny. But the (temporary) hybrid looks and sounds like his brother. Now he thinks of him as JoHn. The capital H doesn’t come across when D’avin speaks, which is handy.

What isn’t handy is that when D’avin looks at JoHn post-taunt, he’s _attracted_ to him.

Never before have the concepts of sex and his brother commingled in his thoughts, other than to wonder what in the hells kept Johnny and Dutch from fucking like rabbits before he complicated their lives. And there was the thing once that led to other things, but that’s never been about John. 

Growing up as they did, bathing (when you could legit call it that because you weren’t just rinsing off the worst in the frigid lake) was never a private event. The claustrophobic cabin water closet locked but didn’t allow for showers, and the spacious barn washing floor had no dividing walls. He’s known his sibling’s form from childhood through their teens. Never took notice except to (satisfyingly) assess a potential competitor’s strength as beatable.

This held true in the deepest sense even the time that fourteen-year-old John sprang a boner in the shower and fumbled the towel a little too long in his flustered haste to _get out of there_. D’avin felt his body respond. It was the first time he had seen a hard cock besides his own and he discovered he liked seeing someone else’s at least as much as seeing his own. He never teased John about that moment.

He fixated on that hardon for a few months, calling up the memory whenever he got himself off. This cock-not-his-own was wholly disconnected from Johnny, the person. Looking at Johnny after that, even naked, did not evoke that response. He didn’t want his brother, he just wanted maleness. It wasn’t long before he started adding the occasional (exotic) dish of rooster to his (usual) fare of chicken. 

He’s fairly certain that John doesn’t know about the men. They are rare. He shoves the sudden pain away (Alvis). War first. 

So why would JoHn suddenly unleash, “_Are we finally going to do this?_” The being who isn’t his brother, at least mostly not Johnny as the days progress, who is in (temporary) possession of the cock that started off his taste for rooster, has implied wanting to fuck him. D’avin shudders. 

But being The Smart One, as JoHn put it so forcefully while also pointedly mentioning Sabine, he’ll never try to consummate the idea. The _finally_ was obviously introduced to freak D’avin out (even more). To misdirect him because, of course, he’d be horrified at the thought, right? Especially once JoHn established the parameters by which to try to cure him in that manner would be rape. Because the Hullen part wants to stay Hullen. Because his brother doesn’t want him.

Or was the idea sparked by (what’s left of) his brother, who really is the smart one, pushing back, relying upon Hullen arrogance to taunt D’avin, offering a solution with his consent? The Hullen think they understand how his immunity works. He hopes that John doesn’t know the truth so that they can’t catch on.  
*******

This high is like no other he has experienced. John is still himself enough to feel it. He wants it almost as much as the green wants to keep him. But not as much as he still wants to be himself.

_They_ are thrilled to have another body to act through. Fighting, yelling, eating, _sex_—they haven’t had time to use him for the last thing yet except for a quick wank that felt better than any other he’s given himself. Apparently, they adore endorphins. He can use that as long as they don’t overtake him. They have tendrils into his mind, not through the whole of himself yet, but enough that they might notice what he’s doing.

Because of them, just recalling D’avin’s startled eyes, even as he fired back the retort, John gets _hard_. D’av’s voice… he had meant what he said and felt the shock of want in his core, John knew it from his voice. His own infected body responded with encouragement. He’s only enough in control to suggest to the Hullen that D’avin is useful alive, useful as more than muscle or a spare set of hands, even though they know he’s a threat.

He has to free D’avin to save Dutch. To do that, he has to help get himself back because his brother won’t leave him. He can sense the Hullen laughing at his insignificance, one more puny human already disappearing.

The green likes D’avin’s pheromones even as they warn themselves that he’s toxic. They like that John doesn’t appreciate where this takes his mind. They stay close to D’avin, reduce the personal space.

So, while occupying them with conscious thoughts of escape, John cultivates a small, pseudo-subconscious side project in which he _remembers_ analyzing slides of green to which he added samples of D’avin’s various fluids. Sweat is safe. Saliva makes them sluggish. Blood is lethal. Ergo, semen is lethal, hence, Sabine. Urine is mildly toxic. He also _recalls_ testing polyiso as a transport material for when he can’t carry it in glass or metal. 

He also lets slip some memories of splashing together in the lake, turning the hoses on each other in the washing room. For him, they are recollections of silliness and fun, times of closeness with someone who cares about him, nothing more complex than that, but the green is hungry for human flesh. 

He hopes that D’avin knows the truth about exactly how his toxicity functions. He shoves the thought down deep.  
*******

When D’avin turns and finds JoHn too close, gets forced back against the wall of the trailer, it takes a moment of peak adrenaline before he realizes that the look in those eyes isn’t homicidal. He’s not as thick as (he hopes) they think he is. He plays along. “What.”

Those now icy eyes regard him closely. “You aren’t safe from us. From me. I can take what I want.”

“Debatable. What do you want?”

JoHn leans in, licks all the way from collarbone to ear in one swipe, lingers to nuzzle at his neck. 

D’avin resists (for show), even as the hair along his body rises and his cock stirs.

“There’s a saying about having cake and eating it too. That’s what I want. I could take it. But you want me, you just never admitted it to yourself. Humans and their rules.” JoHn presses close, no more secrets. “I’ll enjoy getting you to break them.” He lifts his face and slides it along D’avin’s jaw. 

What the hells, if the Hullen are going to be this reckless…. D’avin turns his face, lips seeking.

“Nope.” JoHn pulls back, grinning, arm braced at his throat. “And if you bite me hard enough to break the skin, I’ll kill you.” 

D’av swallows a sound that (otherwise) would have emerged at the fact that lesser biting is allowed. 

JoHn reaches into a pocket and produces a handful of condom packages marked with the same branding as the med supplies. “You’ll remember, I’m the smart one.” He shoves the packets back in his pocket.

D’avin tries for a look of desperation. He feels a hand sliding up his thigh, but he can’t go anywhere without doing damage to JoHn or himself. He has always appreciated his brother’s competent, strong, clever hands, just never in this context. When a groan slips out, there’s no acting about it. He arches into the touch. It’s been a long time for him, too much war and worry. The mouth is back at his neck. He’s never contemplated the perfection of Johnny’s height for sexual compatibility. He usually goes for guys bigger than himself (for the struggle), but they don’t fit like this. 

“Hells,” JoHn pushes closer, his own erection rubbing against D’avin’s. “It feels even better than I hoped.”

The choice of pronoun (I) makes D’avin wonder for a fleeting moment if he’s ignoring a hint.  
*******

John hears the words from his own lips and knows they’re true. 

Overwhelmed with the juxtaposition of euphoric sensation and _shit, that’s my brother_, he tries to fade to the background, but not so far that the Hullen will slip and kill D’avin in the enthusiasm of the encounter. His cock is throbbing so hard he thinks he might come too quickly, before any damage can be done to the green. His hand is still stroking D’avin’s cock, overloading both bodies and minds. He has underestimated the parasite. It yanks his mind forward, depriving him of distance and cooling his body a little. Only a little. “D’av,” he gasps.

“Johnny?” There’s recognition and a bit of horror in his brother’s wide eyes. 

“I trust you.” He carefully doesn’t ask to be trusted. He smiles, not the wild grin of thief Johnny or of the Hullen, but his own soft wryness around someone he loves. “When we fuck, _mean_ it.” He gives an extra squeeze, causing D’avin’s eyelids to flutter. And then the cover story, “This is our chance to do what we’d never do otherwise. Before we die.” 

D’av presses their foreheads together, clasping the back of Johnny’s head, tenderly. It’s a moment before battle, a different kind of battle, equally dire. 

And then the Hullen use John’s voice to growl, as they shove D’avin toward the improvised cot they had made because the human can’t go days without sleep. 

D’av strips off his own clothing, all efficiency, in the time it takes John to yank off shoes and socks. D’avin tears John’s tshirt to get it off. If it’s a show, it’s a good one. As D’av unclips John’s belt, as they’re both looking down, Johnny suddenly balks, realizing at some point, _that_ is going _inside_ him. The Hullen won’t prove their superior derring-do unless nothing but 0.05 millimeters of polyiso separates them from the risk of purge.

It hits him that he won’t be easy for D’avin to take either. His brother doesn’t have the parasite juicing him to compensate. His own puppet body doesn’t care, however, as D’avin’s mouth engulfs him. He loses time in the sensations, hears himself saying aloud and repeatedly how good it feels, struggles not to orgasm, until the point that he can’t keep the Hullen back from _more_. They squeeze D’avin’s jaw to disengage him and shove him back on the bed. 

John’s hands are scrabbling for a condom, rolling it on himself, registering vaguely that at least it’s a lubed one, trying not to fight the action that will lead to hurting D’avin, when it dawns on him, the choice to blow him first, the authenticity of _I would wreck you_. The various meanings. One of which is that his brother has successfully kept a big secret from him. He blurts out, “You’ve done this before,” relief smiling out from his eyes.

“Not with you,” D’avin winks and then rolls to his stomach. 

The sight of presented ass, tight small of back, is something primordial for the ooze and for the human. Johnny slides in as though he has all the experience in the universe. He isn’t quite sure what language he’s/they’re using at this point. They’re in control enough that there’s no gentleness at all, but it doesn’t seem to matter, D’av is pushing back, meeting him, writhing underneath him. “Fuck me, Johnny,” he grits out, “you feel amazing.” Not letting him off the hook, not letting him fade to the background. 

Johnny understands even through the haze of physical lust and the Hullen gloating. He gets a grip on D’av’s hips and pulls him back, forcing him to prop up on all fours so they can ride him harder. It’s so intense that he comes in seconds. Through the blinding goodness of it, he hears his brother say, “Johnny. Stay with me.”  
*******

D’avin harbors no illusions that it’s over. The Hullen are too strong and determined to beat him. He feels the pulling free, hears the squish of the condom hit the far wall, bites back a grin that they fear him even as they assert dominance. 

The brief pain had quickly smoothed into genuine pleasure, and he’s aching for more touching JoHn (or Johnny), he’s no longer sure. His erection has no parasitic excuse to hide behind. He swallows hard and rolls over. It was easier not looking at his brother’s face. 

There’s no sign that JoHn needs time to recover. D’avin tugs JoHn’s pants out from underneath himself and twists his hand into the pocket. Once rubbered up, he rests back, surrendering. He notes that in this reality (gone full-on insane), he’s turned on enough to stay hard. He watches JoHn survey him like a parcel of land or ship to be taken. He prays for an indication that his brother is watching. Nothing. 

The eyes flicker with malice. JoHn strokes himself. “You _remember_ this. From the shower all those years ago.”

D’avin fights the impulse to close his eyes. Of course, the Hullen can access Johnny’s memories, but to think that Johnny realized, no doubt misinterpreted…. He forces himself to keep his eyes open, to see familiar hands touching the very hardness that revealed to him more of who he is. To remember all the times the thought of it and it got him there. Back then, he didn’t associate (the paradigm) cock with John, in his mind, it was bestowed upon whomever he wanted. Now, it’s unavoidably connected to the one person he wishes didn’t possess it. But it’s even better now—mature, knowing, hard for him, right here.

If Johnny lives (and is whole), reconciliation will be an option. No matter how long it takes. “You can plainly see that I do,” he whispers hoarsely, feeling his cock jump against his belly. 

JoHn moves forward, hovering. Reaches down and grips D’avin’s cock to guide it. D’avin focuses not on the alien intelligence but whatever he can discern of Johnny. He touches both of Johnny’s thighs gently, firmly, stopping the Hullen from just impaling him. One-handed, he scrabbles in the packet for the lube residue and touches Johnny (softly). It won’t be enough. Impatiently, they grab his arm and wrench it back, plunging down on him. Johnny’s cry cuts at D’avin before the Hullen dampen the pain and the endorphins (apparently) start to roll out, flushing JoHn pink from belly to chest. 

“Yes!” the merged being exclaims, head thrown back. “You thought you could take me apart. Wreck me. I’m fucking you. I fucking _own_ you.”

It’s so nearly true that D’avin feels tears start in his eyes. He’s deep in his brother’s (molten) heat, his own nerve endings overloading, too near climax to remain rational. JoHn’s hand is flying, stroking himself, his body is squeezing around D’avin, lost in the feelings, close, so close to orgasm, to winning the complete obliteration of Johnny. 

It’s time. D’avin reaches up and pulls Johnny down by the back of the head (yes Johnny, that’s who he chooses to see to the exclusion of all else). It startles them into opening their eyes. “I see you, I'm here for you,” he says. He swallows hard, pushing away his fear and shame. “I'm inside you, as close as we could ever be. You hurt my heart. I love you. That’s why I can do this. That’s why as fucked up as all of this is, I need to know that I’m doing this with you.” He doesn’t kiss him even though he wants to, and he hopes that shows in his eyes. He wraps his free hand around Johnny’s and takes him over the edge.  
*******

He feels… so not normal. Dizzy. Bruised. Head throbbing with dull pain. Cock up his ass, softening. Not just any. D’avin’s heart thunders under his ear. He presses a hand into the cot to try to help himself up and his hand slips. He opens his eyes. Green on the swell of D’avin’s chest. The grey blanket. His own hand. He groans. D’avin’s arms come around him. 

“Are you… you?” 

He’s not sure he’s ever heard D’avin’s voice tremble before. He slides his other hand out from the slick between them, trying to think of a phrase with which to convince D’av in one go. Something better comes to mind. He lifts his head and scoots up, necessarily disengaging, for the purpose of bringing their mouths together. He starts somewhat chastely, not exactly sure what awaits, then deepens the kiss as D’av’s mouth proves tender, welcoming. His brother groans softly underneath him. Reluctantly, John presses up on his elbows and rolls to the side, untangling their legs. 

D’av’s face is wet with tears. “I’m sorry,” he says, clearly trying not to look away.

“I’m not.” He strokes his fingers through the green spattering D’av’s chest. “I knew there was more with Sabine then just bodily fluids. Otherwise, being exposed to your blood in battle would be enough to purge them.“

“Isn’t it great that the Hullen don’t understand love?”

“If they did, they never would have let me surface. They thought they were being cruel. Speaking of which… that time when we were kids, I never thought you wanted me. They took my embarrassed memory plus that thing you said a couple days ago and got cute.”

D’avin is quiet for a moment. “Yeah. But it made me realize that I like a nice cock on occasion.” He scrubs a hand over his face, inadvertently painting it partially green. The rest of it reddens. 

“Oh, so you think it’s nice?” That elicits a rueful chuckle. He presses on, “I wish you hadn’t thought you had to hide that side of yourself.” 

D’av shrugs. “My shit, not your fault.” 

Johnny pulls off the condom and lets his hand linger on D’av’s damp skin, feeling it stir and swell.

D'avin protests, “You don’t—”

“I do. I have to know what it’s like without the Hullen.” 

“We would never—”

“We did. They were in the way.” His brother’s cock is full in his hand now. Smooth. He worries for a moment about the pain. He feels surprised that he assumes he would bottom. Or is it that he wants to lie back and be… cherished? He feels so grateful to be here, as himself. 

D’av sighs, heavily. It’s his sigh of understanding. He rolls them, keeping his own weight mostly off John. He settles his cock against John’s belly and sucks in a surprised breath. 

“Yeah.” John replies to the unspoken statement. “I’m really fucking hard. After coming twice. What does that tell you?” He pulls D’av into a kiss. 

They don’t break that kiss until D’av has led him through a lesson in the beauties of friction. Ecstasy without fucking. It’s a good thing they’re in the middle of nowhere, he thinks, distantly, when he does separate from D’av’s mouth to yell out. 

“…king hells!” John flails up to sitting… in his bunk on Lucy, chest heaving, jockeys a mess, cock still pulsing with that massively realistic _detailed_ dream. Sucking in great heaves of breath, he stumbles up, strips off and dries off, pulls on clean clothing. “I’m okay, Lucy,” he gasps aloud, before the ship can inquire, “not in a state of mind to talk.” He pauses at his own door and then reminds himself that he has survived the impossible. At the com just a few doors down, he says, “If you’re alone, I need to talk.”

Filtered, his brother’s voice replies, sounding shaky, “Give me a sec, I was in the shower.”

At 3:10 a.m. In the shower. John works to steady his own breathing. The door opens. 

“What’s wrong?” D’av asks, still rubbing a towel over his head, stepping back to let Johnny in.

Once the door swishes shut, John starts pacing. “How did we purge me?” 

D’av stops toweling. “You broke your own fucking neck. You figured it out but couldn’t tell us. Luckily, Zeph caught up with your plan just in time.”

“Tell me you did not just have the most detailed and lurid dream about purging me. We kept switching to each other’s point of view.” He doesn’t say, _I was you while they were impaling me on you._

“How? How’s that possible?” It’s a testament to how far they’ve come that D’av doesn’t even try for deflection. 

“Accessing each other’s memories through the green?” John suggests.

“You got mine, I didn’t get yours.” D’av sounds truly distressed. “And these weren’t memories.”

“Hey, hey,” John stops pacing, grabs his shoulder. “I did this. You didn’t.”

“What?”

“It was an obvious solution if I could get you to go there. But you wouldn’t. Didn’t. Just for that one moment, I thought you might, that there was a chance.”

“I can’t not rise to the bait in an argument. But then… you weren’t really all you, right? You were this other, pushing my buttons. It got me.” 

“They used what they knew up to the most recent time you touched the green. What you didn’t want me to know.”

“It worked. But I’m still me. I didn’t want to violate you.” D’av hesitates before the next thought. His voice is rough. “I was tempted, and it stuck with me.” 

“We had that vision _together_. So, the last man you were with... the Hullen didn’t know. It’s none of my business... will you tell me anyway?”

Pain flashes on D’av’s face. “Alvis.”

“Oh.” Complexity within complication. Yet, somehow, it assures him of what he wanted to know. “Wow, I’m sorry, D’av.” 

“Yeah. Thanks." D'av leans back on the wall. "Did we really share a vision? Or just have two different dreams at the same time.”

“I’m pretty sure we shared the same experience. Our connections to the green, former though they may be, left something behind.”

“Similar then, maybe. All the chemistry, mixing over the last week in close quarters. You said the Hullen rely on pheromones. We were alone out there together, exhausted, stressed, fighting.”

“Turned on.” John lets the words hang for a long moment. “The only way to know is to compare notes. Before you woke up, how many times did I come?”

D’avin flushes. “Three.” 

John nods. “The second time, I said, “I fucking—”

“—own you,” D’avin finishes for him. 

“Yeah, but I hurt your heart,” John adds. D’av’s eyes widen. John gives him that wry smile. “You give amazing head, by the way.” He can’t help it, it’s too good shocking D’avin like that. John resumes pacing but feels calmer. “It would have worked, I’m sure of it. You knew it too, you figured it out. I’m not the only smart one.”

“In the real world, you didn’t make a move. I couldn’t.”

“I set them up, but they had to think it was their idea. Maybe back there I wasn’t strong enough. Or I tipped my hand somehow.”

“Where the vision started, shoving me up against the trailer wall, you… when they told me I wasn’t safe from you.” D’av stops John’s pacing with a gentle hand on his forearm. “It’s better that you found another way. Forcing you to go through that—”

“I consented. You got that, yes?”

D’av lets out a hard breath. “Still, the situation was fucked up.”

“Yeah. Clearly, breaking my own neck was better,” he retorts. But John can’t leave it there. Even joking, it’s a lie. “_That_… what we shared… how you were the whole time, calm, steady, looking out for me.” A thrill runs up his spine even though his body is too exhausted to translate it into anything truly sexual. 

“I don’t remember being calm,” D’avin says. “I’m not calm now.”

There’s _that_ sound in his voice again. John meets his eyes. There’s a lot to read. “I don’t have a hangup about it. Any of it. We’re not children.”

That raises an eyebrow. “Are you… coming on to me?”

“I’m somewhat ah, useless at the moment, but would that be unwelcome?” 

D’av takes a hesitant step closer. “We’re awake, right?” he asks in a jesting tone.

“What answer makes you take another step?” John is not trembling. 

“It’ll change things.”

“What doesn’t?” John closes the gap by another step. “They’re already changed. I can’t undo what we just shared.”

They aren’t touching. Yet. “Was there anything you felt or said that wasn’t true?”

John fast forwards through his memory. “Before the purge, too meta for me to know if I was acting out a fantasy or believed I was going Hullen. That last part, that was just the two of us. It all felt true. Didn’t it?” He closes the last of the space, folding D’av into a fierce embrace. 

“I almost lost you,” D’av murmurs into his neck. 

John is off balance at how much he wants to kiss D’av, feel his lips and tongue in that new way that he never thought about before. But it’s not the right moment. 

“Stay here until morning? Just to be close,” D’av asks.

Johnny nods. They don’t speak as they tumble to the bed and settle in, holding on, limbs tangled. 

“For the record, who wrecked who?” D’avin whispers, rhetorically, just before they fall asleep in the warm nest of each other.  
*******


End file.
